


Unsteady

by 60sec400



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Already De-aged!Nightwing, Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Barbara Gordon is Batgirl, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson loves redheads, Dick is Damian's adopted dad because Bruce is a dick sometimes lol, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Memory Loss, Temporary Amnesia, de-aged dick grayson, there's a lot of confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 23:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10932468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/60sec400/pseuds/60sec400
Summary: Nightwing is 22 when he's hit by, well, something. They haven't actually figured that out yet. But now he's ten years old and a child and Damian struggles to see the man who he had looked to as a father forget who he ever was. De-aged fic. AU. Already!De-aged Nightwing. Two-shot.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Lol. I've been reading a shit ton of YJ/Batman/TT fics like dudes it's been three years. I'm in college now. I've brought my comics back up to school with me. I've been watching Gotham. I thought I should get my name back out there after three years given the name change (I was Fighter1357 and I'm so sorry for anything I wrote during High School dear god) and like Yj is getting a third season in 2018? The fuck? I'm about that shit.
> 
> Anyway. I do not own any of these characters and I am only using them for my, and other's enjoyment. They belong to DC Comics respectively. Thank you!

Damian enjoyed working with Nightwing. He'd never admit it and, god forbid if Wing ever found out, he general preferred it to working with his father. Batman, because generally Damian refused to call him Bruce or even Father anymore unless he was directly talking to him, simply didn't know what to do with Damian. And Damian didn't know what to do with Batman. Because, we, it wasn't like Bruce was actually social. He knew how to put up a front, but he couldn't exactly do that with Damian.

And well, Damian couldn't exactly return the favor. He preferred Dick because Dick wasn't like him at all. Dick made jokes and he laughed and god, well, he was so annoying sometimes. But he was serious too, and he was calm and, at the very least, he could focus. It was like the best of both worlds. Dick was what Damian had wanted in his father after he knew a father could be more than what he'd been taught. It just took him a while to realize what was right in front of him.

He and Nightwing were standing at the top of some Wayne Building on the west side. Batman was following a case for the League and called the eldest Bat in. Dick had been good natured about it, and he made it quite clear he enjoyed working with Damian. It was part of their dynamic that Damian "hated working with him". Because despite all the jokes and all the instances that he complained and rolled his eyes in frustration, he'd allow that singular smile. Dick would grin back, that big goofy grin that he'd grown into before he'd become the Batman.

And the thing was, they worked well together. Damian and Dick. They were Batman and Robin. Better than maybe the originals. Weren't the students always supposed to surpass the masters? Maybe Nightwing wasn't quite there yet, but perhaps he'd passed Bruce in his own ways (he'd always have a natural athleticism that no other bat could achieve). And maybe, some tiny, incredibly small part of Damian hadn't passed Dick. Yet.

He was still learning to be okay with that.

Things took time.

He'd at least learned that from Grayson.

So they were making progress.

"Robin," Nightwing hissed. "You paying attention?"

"Of course," Robin immediately snapped. "I'm not Todd. I listen."

Nightwing stared at him for a moment before he nodded. "I think we're done here for a little bit, alright? We should head back soon."

Damian opened his mouth to argue but a sharp look from the older hero shut him up. Damian had also learned to hold his tongue and listen to his elders. That was also something he was learning to be okay with because, god, some people were so stupid. But Nightwing had been on edge all night, as if something were deeply disturbing him. Robin hadn't been able to drag it out of him and normally Nightwing was pretty open, so it was cause for a little concern. Nightwing was really open. He'd chatter on all night if he could, sometimes. But like Damian had noted earlier about his… brother (father?), Nightwing could be serious. It was one of those nights.

Nightwing motioned for them to move buildings. Before Damian had even retracted his grappling, he had already turned to Nightwing to speak. But the man had moved toward the opposite edge of the new building and was leaning over the side, eyes narrowed.

Robin, not Damian, cleared his throat. "Nightwing?"

The man didn't move.

Robin tried again. "Nightwing, perhaps—."

"Something's wrong," Nightwing interrupted. "Don't you feel it?"

Robin frowned. "What are you prattling on about?" he growled, trying to erase the broken name of his mentor.

"Something's just not right. I feel like something's about to happen. Robin, head back to the cave," Nightwing demand. He pulled himself away from and the edge and twisted to turn to look at Robin. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the oncoming argument.

It was delivered. Robin balled his fists. "You've been ignoring me all night and now you send me home, Grayson?"

Nightwing frowned. "No names on the field. Go home, Robin. Now."

Robin opened his mouth, only to pause when Nightwing held up his hand.

"Your father would kill me if you got hurt. I have a bad feeling about tonight and I trust my feelings. Go home," Nightwing's statement was final. His words had those deep no-other-option tones that Batman sometimes held when he talked to Superman about a league issue. Half the time, they didn't know Robin was listening in from the rafters of the Batcave, but Damian had observed his father… Bruce? Batman?... to know when his tone was being repeated. But Robin didn't have it in himself to argue. He frowned, hesitated a moment before he turned, and bade Nightwing no farewell.

When he arrived in the cave, he slammed his mask on the ground and growled. How dare Nightwing tell him what to do? How dare he tell the real of the Batman (but was he really?) what to do?

He stomped over to the chair and sat down and crossed his legs. He stared up at the batcomputer, green eyes hard as steel.

"Wing send you home?"

"Shut up, Drake."

"Probably did it to keep you safe," Tim remarked. He stood next to the chair of the batcomputer and frowned. "You're in my spot."

"You were listening in to our conversation," Damian snapped. "You take our privacy, I'll take your spot." Damian paused and added, "And it'll be mine one day anyway."

Tim rolled his eyes and stared up at the batcomputer. He squinted, rubbed his eyes, and then looked up at it again. There was the blinking red dot of Nightwing's location. It was moving fast around the west side of Gotham where Damian had come from. It killed Damian to not be able to join but he was too mad at Nightwing for ignoring him to go back out and ignore orders. Thus, he'd grumpily stare at the computer until Nightwing came home. If he was hurt, then Damian could scold the older brother (?) then.

But then Damian frowned. Not that he wanted Grayson hurt. He'd grown out of that too.

It was little more than an hour when the sound of the motorcycle rolled in through the entrance to the cave. Tim had pulled up another chair and was sitting in a slouching position. He glared at the back of Damian's head through the nice plushy chair that made up the batcomputer's main point of access. Damian, who could easily ignore Drake in all the hours of the day, spun the chair and turned to where Dick rested his motorcycle.

They man's suit was a beat up. As expected. How beat up, though, was difficult to see in the low light of the cave. But Dick wobbled for a minute there and didn't answer Tim's question.

The boy sat up and frowned. "Nightwing?" He paused. "Dick?"

Dick slowly removed his helmet from his head. His hands shook as he rested it on the handle bar before he collapsed in a heap on the ground. Tim and Damian's eyes widened before they rushed forward to take him to the medical bay. Dick's breathing was labored, and he seemed to have some control of himself to help the boys carry him. Getting him on the bed was the hard part and Dick's head lolled against Damian's for a moment as they pushed him up on the white sheets.

"I'll go get Alfred," Tim said, his voice shaking a little. "Make sure he's okay."

Damian stared at Dick before he turned and pulled one of the seats up.

"I didn't want you to get hurt," Damian admitted. "Well, perhaps a little. But it was not my intention Grayson, and I'd appreciate it if you stop."

But Dick's strangled breathing continued and his chest only rose and fell in response. Aside from the occasional twitch of his fingers, Dick Grayson didn't move. Damian grasped his hand for a few moments before he frowned and pulled it away. Couldn't risk Grayson waking up and thinking that Damian liked him or anything.

Alfred and Tim arrived a few minutes later.

As the man snapped on the rubber gloves, he turned to Tim and said, "Have you contacted Master Bruce?"

Tim shook his head. "Radio silence. No contact until he gets back."

Alfred didn't reply, if he'd even heard Tim at all. He immediately shooed them both out. Only Tim seemed to protest and Damian stumbled out a bit and stood right at the door before Alfred shut it in his face. It wasn't that Damian couldn't handle pain or injury— he could. Perhaps a little too well for his age, but that wasn't the issue. His issue was the strangeness of seeing Grayson simply collapse like that, his body buckling and going down in a way that held none of the grace that the acrobat usually possessed. It was flimsy and sad. There was a strangeness to seeing a Grayson who, despite his idiocy sometimes, managed to get the least injured out of all of them but still took the most risks.

Jason called Grayson the Golden Boy, but Damian couldn't disagree more. He knew that Grayson and Bruce avoided talking about the years where they argued like Drake and Todd. He knew that Grayson still held his tongue, not because it he had learned his lesson but because it wasn't worth it anymore to him.

It was strange seeing Grayson looking like he'd gone up against Superman. It was strange seeing him looking as if he'd simply given up in the middle of the fight. But Nightwing had been distracted and it wasn't unusual for heroes to slip if they were tired, and as much as Damian denied it he was a part of Grayson's life. Damian knew the general inner workings of Grayson's schedule. He had acquired it, through no fault of his own, from Alfred who'd simply given it to Damian on a whim.

Not that Damian had complained. Or hung it up.

Not at all.

Tim paced outside the med bay doors. Alfred had drawn the thick blinds and obstructed any view of the two of them. There weren't any cameras in there, generally, and even if there were, Tim would've been apprehensive of checking them on the off chance Alfred would find out. Damian let out several strings of curses at front door for several minutes before he settled down outside the door against the opposite wall.

Damian hated the Waiting Game. It was annoying and he was a very in the moment type of person. That extended to waiting for people to recover or for news to come to him. If it weren't for his slight fear of being benched by his father (Bruce?), then he would've burst in the door and demanded to know everything. But the only thing he could do at the moment was cross his arms and glare angrily at the door in a semi-decent imitation of his own… whatever's glare.

It would be some time before Alfred opened the door, a worried frown on his normally expressionless and somewhat pompous face.

"We'll wait until Master Bruce returns," he told Tim and Damian. "Go upstairs and change. There's frozen food in the fridge."

The boys glanced at each other before they picked themselves up without a fight. It wasn't normal when Alfred permitted they eat frozen food and he only did it when something bad had happened. Damian clenched his fists. If only Grayson hadn't been an idiot and sent him home, then perhaps he could've helped stop this. Whatever 'this' was.

They each stood silently in the kitchen as Tim waited for their frozen pizza to bake. Damian was leaning back on one of the bar stools, his arms folded and his green eyes bearing into the granite in front of him.

"It's not your fault," Tim said. It was a rare moment of brotherly affection. He and Damian were almost always at each other's throats. But Tim felt the need to pull himself up to be comforting— especially since Dick wasn't here to do it.

"Of course not," Damian scoffed, but the half-heartedness of the comment didn't go unnoticed.

Tim cleared his throat and continued. "I mean, Dick makes his own choices. He's an adult. And he'd be glad, and you know this too, that it isn't you down there. He'd rather is be himself. Dick's just that kind of guy."

Damian turned his head to look away. It was one of those rare instances that Drake was right and it frustrated Damian to no end. Dick was self-sacrificing and even though he'd made some terrible decisions regarding his own life, he was also very resilient in the end. Dick knew his limits, sometimes, and knew what he could or could not pull back from. The question, then, was why hadn't he called for backup? Even if Dick had sent Damian home, the man wasn't proud. He wouldn't not have called Damian or even Tim, if he was that desperate, if he needed the help.

"He's too willing to throw himself down," Damian said. He tried to keep his voice even, but it was quieter and lower than he had intended to come across.

Tim nodded. "He's pretty dumb like that sometimes," he agreed. "But there isn't anything we can do about it now. First thing after Alfred tells us what's wrong is to find out who did this."

"He's an idiot," Damian said.

"You're worried about him," Tim said at the same time.

Damian opened his mouth to retort but the oven beeped and Tim turned away to pull the pizza out.

"You are," Tim said. "You like him a lot more than you let on. Maybe you should tell him that sometime."

Damian watched Tim slice the pizza and pull out the paper plates for days like these; where one of them was injured and they all played the Waiting Game. His shoulders dropped and he leaned on the counter in front of him. Tim was, once again, right. Maybe he could focus on how much that annoyed him instead of focusing on his worry for Grayson. He only lifted himself from his thoughts when Tim placed a plate by his head.

"Eat up, tonight will be long," he instructed. Tim paused a moment and hesitated. "Uh, Little D—."

"You do not get to call me that, Grayson isn't dead," Damian snapped, "and even if he was, you certainly don't have permission to call me by that name."

Tim held up his hands. "Hey, I was just trying to relate!"

"Well, stop," Damian growled, his mouth turning into a frown. "I don't want to relate to you."

The older boy opened his mouth, offended, but he stopped when Alfred appeared at the kitchen door.

"Master Bruce has returned and has been informed of Dick's status. You may come down and see him, after we explain," the Butler said before he turned and walked back down the hall way to the entrance to the bat cave.

The moment of aggravation forgotten, the boys looked at each other with wide eyes and followed Alfred out of the kitchen, their pizza forgotten. Alfred was unusually silent as they walked down to the Batcave. Bruce was standing there with his cowl down and arms folded. He seemed troubled but the look washed away into indifference when they entered his sights. Damian scowled. Now was not the time for emotionless squabble.

"Tim," Bruce beckoned. "Damian, wait here."

Damian moved to protest, but Alfred placed his hand on his shoulder and his father shook his head. Damian reflected Bruce's own scowl on him as the two of the heroes walked down to where Dick was being held. It didn't help that, to Damian, he was closest to Grayson out of all them. He needed to be there. Maybe, a tiny voice whispered, if you acted like you cared more than perhaps father would let you in with Drake.

He squashed it and scowled more fervently at the doors. Alfred said nothing before he too disappeared after the men. A few minutes later, Bruce and Tim appeared. Tim looked deeply troubled— too emotional for his own good— but the strange look made Damian's stomach drop.

"It cannot have been that bad? Is Grayson alright? Will he heal?"

Bruce and Tim glanced at each other. "The injuries should, yes. Most of them are gone actually," Bruce said calmly.

"Gone?" Damian echoed. "It's only been a few hours—."

"There were complications," Bruce interrupted.

"What were there?" Damian demanded as he glared up at his father.

Bruce's mask of indifference shifted to brief frustration as his brown eyes met Damian's. But then that too disappeared and his father look tired. "Damian," there was a pause, "son. Do you want De-aging is?"

Damian blinked. "The process of reversing ones age, typically not of their own volition, to appear younger," he said hollowly. "How young is he?"

Bruce seemed to blink at his sons automatic response. "Yes that's exactly it. He's ten."

Damian seemed to sway for a moment. Ten. That was younger than him by two years. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He jerked himself away and glared up at his father, but it was half-hearted.

"May I see him?"

"He hasn't woken up yet," Tim said, his eyes flickering to Bruce before he steadied his gaze on Damian. "And we want to tell him before—."

"You got to see him," Damian snapped. "And Grayson cares for me more, it would be more appropriate to see me when he wakes than you."

Tim opened his mouth to argue, his eyes narrowing, but Bruce stepped forward and placed hands on both of his sons.

"Enough," he said, "Damian, you can see him for only a two minutes. Get going."

Damian didn't waste any time. He stalked past Drake and his father and into the room that was now unlocked. The door was open. Alfred was near one of the monitors, writing something down.

"Don't wake him, Master Damian. Master Richard needs his rest," Alfred said. He'd taken to calling Grayson 'Richard' once the young man had turned eighteen. Grayson protested often when it first began happening (before Damian's time), and still did, but the old Butler would not be moved. He insisted on calling Grayson Richard despite the man's protest of, 'It's Dick, Alfred!' to which Jason yelled from the other side of the manor, 'Yeah, he's a Dick!"

Alfred and Grayson were not amused.

Damian shook his mind of the memory. Grayson was tiny. He was thin and his face was so young that Damian, if he hadn't known it was Grayson because he'd been told, would not have recognized his older brother (father?). He grabbed the mans, boys?, hand and squeezed. But Grayson didn't reply. He was wearing sweatpants that were far too big and no shirt. On his chest looked like a raw, new, wound. But Damian had seen this wound before and it was mostly scar even then. But it was red here— a carved 'J' over Grayson's heart. It had been from the Joker.

He stared at his father-figure before a hand appeared on his shoulder. "Let's let Dick rest, Damian."

"Of course, father," Damian whispered. He stared at Grayson up until they closed the door.

* * *

Dick's heart seized when he realized he wasn't fighting on the Gotham rooftops and he didn't, really know where he was. When he gripped his hand and felt the soft sheets of the medical room in the Batcave he was able to relax. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he could recognize the sheets, those specific sheets, by touch. He sat up and groaned, rubbing his head. He didn't feel sore, not like he should, but there was a burning sensation on his chest and his wrists, oddly enough, felt rough.

He looked down to inspect them.

His hand was a lot smaller than expected. He didn't move. Didn't breath. He twisted his hand and wrist around. His wrist was red and sore and scratched up. But his hands looked like a child's. He looked down at his bare chest.

There, on the left side, was the carved J. But it was raw and fresh. He winced. God that hurt.

He threw the sheets off his legs. Okay, so he was definitely smaller. The sweatpants he was wearing were far too large and he seemed dwarfed by everything around them.

The door opened and he turned to find a stone-faced Tim.

"Do I even want to know?" Dick asked and oh, god, his voice was so high.

"We're not even sure," Tim admitted. He walked over to the side of Dick's bed and sat down in one of the chairs Alfred had left. "We think you got de-aged or something. Not sure if it's magic or a serum. Your blood showed nothing but…," he coughed. "Bruce and Damian headed over to where your last location was before you started heading back. Do you remember anything?"

Dick racked his brain. Everything felt a bit foggy and he was a little disorientated. "I remember insisting Damian left because I had a bad feeling, that's it." He touched his throat, as if that would help it go deeper.

Tim leaned forward, his face business. Dick could see that the boy was trying to ignore what was in front of him. Tim was oddly like Bruce in that way.

"Not even getting here and collapsing?"

Dick paused. "No."

Tim waited a moment before switching the subject. "At least you know who you are? You could be stuck with the mentality of a ten year old."

Dick grinned and stuck his tongue out at the now taller, and older, boy. Tim scowled, not appreciating Dick's sense of humor, and folded his arms. Before they could say anything else, there was the sounds of footsteps and sneaker skidding across the floor. Damian appeared in a frazzle at the doorway, his hands gripping the frame.

"Grayson!" he shouted. "Do you know who I am?"

Dick blinked and furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

Damian's eyes went wide and his knees shook.

"His kidding, Damain!" Tim insisted. "Which is super mean, Dick."

Dick laughed. "Sorry, Lil' D. I didn't mean to worry you. Thought it'd be funny and I was wrong."

Damian stood straight and held his head high before he stalked over to the other chair on the other side of Dick. He slouched into it and scowled. "I do not appreciate your sense of humor, Grayson." He scrunched up his nose. "You're tiny."

It was Dick's turn to scowl. "I know I am. I forgot how small I was as a kid."

"How did you ever manage as survive as Robin?"

Dick gave his characteristic grin, which seemed far more childlike and mischievous than when he was older, and shrugged. "Skill and talent, kid."

"I'm older than you, I hardly believe you can call me kid," Damian snapped.

"You're not older than me," Dick said seriously. "I'm still me, D."

Damian sniffed.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Dick turned to find Bruce standing at the door frame. He had the Batman suit on but the cowl was pulled back to reveal a tired face. Dick suddenly felt dwarfed. It didn't help that Tim was already taller than him when he was twenty-five, or Jason either. But now even Damian was a few inches taller and Dick was tiny.

Dick sat up, suddenly feeling the need to keep his face emotionless and his attitude like Batman's. Where had that come from? He hadn't felt that way in years. "No, nothing. I remember telling Damian to leave and that's it."

"Nothing?"

Dick shook his head. "Nothing. Sorry. I wish I could help more. Know how to change me back?"

Bruce's frowned deepened, if that were possible, and sighed. "No. There's nothing in your blood and the Talismans that Zatara gave me to detect magic aren't helping."

"Oh," Dick said, his voice going high. He cleared his throat and felt red cross over his face. "Okay, that's fine. I don't mind."

* * *

Barbara slipped into Dick's old room at the Manor.

"Hey," she said, leaning around to get a look at the bed. Dick was sprawled out over it with his legs and arms around him, staring up at the large velvet canopy. He sat up quickly and a deep red seemed to crawl across his face.

"Babs!" he shrieked, his voice going high. "No, no, you're not supposed to see me!"

She frowned. "I'm not allowed to see my boyfriend?"

He shook. "No! I'm young! I'm a child!"

She sat down on the bed next to him and touched her hand to his shoulder. He seemed to shake and he had tears pricking at his eyes. She wondered if it was because of this distress that his younger body was acting accordingly.

"You're right. This is really weird," she said. "But we can still be friends?"

He didn't look up at her. His blue eyes were zoned out and his head hung in down to the floor. His shoulders shook. "You'll wait for me?"

She smiled and shook him so that their eyes met. "Of course. I promise."

Dick nodded. "Right. I, um, I wanted to give you something. Bruce had most of my stuff brought from my apartment but…" he stood up and walked over to the desk where several boxes were stacked. They were most likely from Dick's work. Bruce had called Dick's supervisor and said he was extremely sick but the recovery process would go well if he had things to distract himself with. Amy had sent over Dick's open cases immediately, wishing the man (boy, not that she knew about that part though) best wishes. When he returned, he snuck a small box into her hand.

Barbara stared at it before she looked at the child in front of her.

"I wanted… I was going to… soon," Dick explained. "I'm sorry."

She opened up the box. A small modest diamond ring was settled in the velvet. They'd talked for several months about getting married eventually. She'd always hoped it was serious but could never be too sure. Tears began to form in her eyes.

Dick's eyes widened. "Oh, uh, no don't cry!"

"I'm happy!" she insisted through the tears. "I swear, god, Dick. I'm so happy."

There seemed to be a smile of relief over his face and he dropped his shoulders. "Oh, thank god. I mean, obviously, we can't get married now but—."

"Eventually," she said. "I know." She slipped the ring on her finger and smiled. It fit perfect.

Eventually, she thought. Soon.

* * *

It was probably good that Dick Grayson was such an optimistic person. A month after he'd been de-aged, they were still searching for ways to return him and he remained in good spirits. Damian had told Dick that he was more knowledgeable and skilled than he and, thus, deserved the title of Robin again. Dick had been wary of it, especially of working with Bruce again, but in the end it seemed to work out alright. They didn't realize anything was wrong until almost two months later.

"Jason's coming today, Bruce says he needs help on a case. I think it took a lot for him to admit it," Tim remarked that morning. He was on his fifth cup of coffee already.

Dick frowned. "Jason? Who's Jason?"

Damian and Tim looked at each other. Tim leaned forward and Damian slowly slid off his chair and slipped from the kitchen. Dick cast a worry glance at the boy before he turned to Tim.

"Dick, what do you mean who's Jason?"

Dick seemed to hesitate. "I don't know who Jason is."

"Jason. He was Robin, remember? Now he's Red Hood."

Dick blinked. "I have no idea who you're talking about."

Bruce and Damian appeared a moment later. Dick spent that night in the medical ward where they measured his brain activity. The next week, he'd already forgotten Damian and Tim. He seemed to remember Bruce and Alfred and everything before he was eight. But the details all seemed fuzzy. Dick had always had a particularly good memory, bringing things up from when he'd been nine or ten to Bruce when, No, Dick, I don't remember that joke you told me on April 10th ten years ago.

They had to lie and tell him that Dick wasn't the first boy that Bruce had adopted. Aside from Damian and Tim, Jason lived away from home and worked on his own. Dick seemed to recall the details as they lied through their teeth. He knew that Jason had been killed by the Joker and had been Robin but he didn't know how he knew that.

It was a patrol, Bruce told him, you hit your head.

They hated lying to him.

He seemed to know Barbara, which made her happy. He knew her as his friend, but he didn't seem to know from where. She just smiled sadly at him when he asked her about the ring on her finger.

"He's gone right now," she said. "But he'll come back."

"Oh!" the ten year old exclaimed. "Cool!"

* * *

A year later. Dick turned eleven, Damian turned thirteen and they still had no way to turn him back.

Another year. Dick was twelve. He met Kid Flash, Red Arrow, and Aqualad with Batman.

"Kid Flash is so cool, Lil' D!" Dick exclaimed to Damian, who was lounging haphazardly over one of the plush couches in the library. Damian winced at the name.

"Is that so, Grayson?" He drawled, a scowl etched on his face.

"Yeah! He can run superfast and everything and he's really funny! He liked my jokes too and I made this really awesome pun, but I can't remember it so I can't tell you," Dick said, disappointed. He was holding himself straight up on the back of the couch Damian was across. He twisted around, his feet pointed straight in the air.

"If you'd repeat it, it wouldn't be funny. It loses its humor when you tell it again later to someone who wasn't there," Damian said quietly.

Dick scrunched up his nose. "Who told you that?"

Damain paused. You did, he thought, but held his tongue.

"You don't have a sense of humor," Dick laughed.

Damain scowled further. "It's above your comprehension, Grayson."

"Why do you call me Grayson? You've never even called me Dick. Or even Richard." There was a pause and Dick slowly lifted up one hand to balance himself. "Not that I want you to call me Richard or anything but still."

Damian hesitated. You couldn't call the person you thought of as your father figure by their first name, no matter that Grayson, Todd, and Drake all called Bruce by his first name. "I'm the only Wayne here," Damain explained, "I'm reminding you of my place above you."

Dick lowered himself to the floor. "Oh, okay."

Damian sat up, "Grayson, I—."

"No!" Dick exclaimed. "No, it's fine. I gotta go upstairs anyway, I got a new video game and I wanted to try it out."

Damian watched his father leave before he sunk lower into the couch and held in his tears. He thought it would get easier. He lied to himself.

* * *

It was almost a year later when they were all sitting in the Batcave quietly when Batman and Robin returned through the Zetatube. Tim and Damian sat up almost immediately. Jason was lounging across Bruce's chair and sat up lazily as the group walked over.

"—so cool!" Dick was saying, talking animatedly as he began to take off his mask and gloves. "We kicked butt! I mean, sure, I'm totally grounded now but at least it made it all worth it!"

"What happened?" Jason asked, seriously.

"Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad snuck out and broke into Cadmus to investigate. They were found, escaped, and discovered Superman's clone. They broke him out and might now form a covert operations team for the Justice League," Batman explained stoically.

Jason paused and pursed his lips. "Only you could deliver that as emotionless as you did. At least add some excitement, Bats."

Batman only glared.

"It was awesome!" Dick said again, tugging on Jason's sleeve. The kid was barely tall enough to look thirteen. He came up to just under Jason's chest. He'd taken to Jason immediately, apparently the man's off-putting personality making him more interesting. And despite what Jason tried, he really liked the kid. Not more or less than the original Dick because he really missed him, a lot, but enough that he wouldn't be as mean. He ruffled Dick's black hair.

"Dork," Jason joked. "I can't wait to hear about it."

"It was foolish of you to go out by yourself, Grayson," Damian said, his arms folded over his chest. "You could've been hurt."

Damian was, out of all of them, the most protective over Dick. It was a little cute until it got annoying at times. Recently, Damian had taken up Nightwing's old mantle, at least until Dick returned. And he operated here in Gotham as opposed to Bludhaven. He insisted that Dick's mantle shouldn't be forgotten. Robin was being used and there was no reason Damian shouldn't be Nightwing for the time being.

But then again, the _time being_ of Dick's oddity was only supposed to last a week. Maybe two. Not almost three years. But there wasn't anything they could find. Bruce and Damian still searched rigorously. Tim and Jason did too, though they seemed to have given up sooner. Tim, like Damian, had taken to the younger Dick immediately and insisted that they hang out. Jason knew it was because Tim wanted to be the older brother to Dick that Dick had been to him.

The older brother that Dick should've been to Jason.

The man winced. He tried not to think about that anymore. He'd forgiven Dick for his rudeness when Jason first came to the manor— he kinda understood the man… boy now.

"I was fine, Lil' D!" Dick said. "Almost got cloned. That wasn't asterous."

Damian scowled at the word. Dick had taken to ripping apart suffixes and prefixes several months ago. Jason and Tim wondered to Bruce if he'd done this the first time. The man had paused and shook his head, "I think it was etymology."

They wondered of the implications.

Would Dick repeat feelings and ideas he'd had at this age? Would he have emotions he didn't understand? Dick had complained in the past of phantom pains but they didn't know if that was because of his condition or because of just crime fighting in general.

"Dick, you should go rest," Tim said, "I'll come up with you. You eat dinner yet?"

"Nah, think Alfred will let us have pizza?"

"Not if you're grounded!"

When they left, Jason and Damian turned to Bruce. "A covert operations team? You can't seriously be thinking of actually letting that happen?"

Bruce hesitated, an unsure look on his face. Jason straightened a little. It wasn't often that Bruce was unsure of something. The man turned in his chair and leaned back a little, rubbing his eyes.

"'Get on board or get out of the way', that's what they said," Bruce whispered. "He's… he's getting more independent again. I just don't want to make the same mistakes as last time."

Damian and Jason glanced at each other in a rare moment of comradery. "He's not going to leave. He has us this time, too, and so long as you don't fire him… Dick will stay, Bruce," Jason said, his voice quiet. "He's only thirteen. I doubt he's thinking what you think he is."

"He had Aqualad and Kid Flash. He was ready to go and do his own thing now—."

"You're being ridiculous," Damian paused. "Father."

Jason noted the hesitation of the word and tucked the information away for later. Before he could say anything, Damian scoffed and was walking toward the entrance to the Batcave, back up toward the library.

After a moment, Bruce sighed. "I'm losing him too," he remarked.

"Who? Damian?"

Bruce nodded. "He barely looks at me. He doesn't really call me father anymore and I…"

"I'm not super close to the kid, B," Jason noted uncomfortably. "I don't know what to tell you."

Bruce opened his mouth but Jason held up his hand. "Listen, Bruce. Damian is almost fifteen. He's had to live with a man he looked up to as his father for almost three years as a child. I think he just misses Dick, probably more than we realize or than we do. And Dick… independence isn't a mistake, B. You'll be an idiot to think it is. But Dick is allowed to grow up now how he is. If he's ready to go solo in two or three years, assuming we don't fix this shit he's gotten himself into, than let him. We both know he's stronger at this age the second time than the first. Give him the damn team, I don't care whatever the hell you do, but don't try to change him, Bruce. This isn't a second chance. He still has his own life," Jason snapped. His voice had remained steady, only rising a little at the end. His hands were griped tight into fists and he was leaning forward a little.

Bruce paused a moment before nodding. "I should get back to this."

"Oh, fuck you!" Jason snapped.

"Jason—."

"No, nah. I'm going upstairs. I'll see you later, B."

_**To be continued...** _


	2. The Return

The team happened. They didn't have a name, and they didn't do much for a while. But Dick was clearly happy and he talked about Superboy and Miss Martian and the whole group a lot. It seemed to annoy Damian, but the boy held on and listened to Dick talk. Eventually, Dick calmed down and steadied it out. He talked about the team still but once it became a normal occurrence the excitement died down until Artemis joined and then Dick talked about how he was bitter about her replacing Roy.

Apparently he didn't voice these thoughts at the cave, not that he was happy about it but he knew not to alienate your teammates. It wasn't until their first operation altogether that she seemed to grow on him.

"Wally is acting so… so… childish!" Dick complained one morning at breakfast, three months after the creation of the Team. "It's getting so annoying with him being so rude to her. They just need to get a room!"

"You're one to talk about acting childish," Damian remarked, a half-smile on his face.

Dick scowled at him before he slumped over. "I'm just saying they need to act less like children."

"And you're not a child?" Damian replied instantly. Tim stifled a laugh.

When Dick didn't respond, he looked over. The boy was concentrating on something, as if he hadn't correctly heard what Damian had said.

"I don't know," Dick said honestly.

Tim put down the newspaper he was reading, the front cover talking about the plant Lex Luthor had shut down in Smallville, Kansas. He leaned forward a little and furrowed his brow. "Dick, what do you mean you don't know?"

"I just feel older than my age sometimes," the boy replied honestly. "Like I feel tired about things. And the one time Two Face got me, I thought 'not again' but that doesn't make any sense. I've never been caught by Two Face before. And then I've always had these dreams that I'm older or something." Dick's brow furrowed, his eyes staring ahead of him unseeing.

"Who's in them?" Tim asked quietly, his voice strained.

"Um, you guys. And you're younger than me. And Bruce is there sometimes with Alfred. And Miss Gordon," Dick whispered, his face blushing at the mention of Barbara. It seemed Dick had developed a crush on Batgirl, not that he'd ever admit because god she was almost old enough to be his mother. He just really liked her. A lot. "I just see you sometimes. We're not really doing anything but still… it's weird."

Tim hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. In almost three years, Dick had never mentioned dreams once to Bruce or Tim. The kid was unusually bright and optimistic, something Tim hadn't quite believed until after a week of living with a younger Dick. It made the older version of the boy look tame in comparison, something Jason had noted several months before. But Dick had made no indication that he had any memories of Before, because normally the boys bright personality made him chatter all day long. Normally, Dick would make an off-handed comment he wanted someone to talk to him about later, it was a subtly he'd adopted after living with Bruce. It seemed to be so integral to his personality now that whatever had affected him had kept it.

Tim knew he'd alluded to the past subtly but Dick had never caught on. He didn't think it was because Dick couldn't, but just that he simply couldn't make a connection because he didn't remember.

Jason referenced things more brusquely. He would ask Dick about things that happened back when Jason was still Robin, an unusual feat in and of itself, and Dick took the references as jokes now. Jason would probably never admit it, but there was a deep hurt in his eyes. Damian was the only one who seemed to act the most appropriate. Aside from being his normal demon self, Damian never once talked about who Grayson was Before. At least not to Dick and rarely if ever to any of the other members of the family.

Tim wasn't sure if it was healthy or not.

It wasn't like they had the best relationship anyway.

"I was Batman in one," Dick said suddenly. "In my dream. I was Batman and I had… you were my Robin D." Dick had stopped calling Damian Lil' D once they got older. Damian was almost fifteen now, hardly a child, and Dick was two years younger.

Tim paled.

Dick shook his head. "That's all I remember. It's so weird. You'd be more like my Batman, right!" the boy laughed, but even Tim could see it was half-hearted. Dick was perceptive and a people person— he knew they were both uncomfortable.

Tim looked over to Damian. The fifteen year old was holding his coffee cup so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Don't be ridiculous," Damian whispered.

Dick blinked. "D? You okay?"

Damain sat up and set his shoulders back. "I'm fine. Drake, I need help on a case. And Grayson, don't you have your training simulation today?"

Damian hopped off the chair and was out of the kitchen before either of them could reply.

* * *

Apparently the simulation went badly. Dick had gone straight to his room after changing out of his uniform, not even bothering to send them a hello.

"What happened?" Tim asked.

Jason was back again. He was looking over at the entrance where Dick had disappeared with a frown before he turned back to Tim and Bruce. Barbara was there too, her red hair up in a tight ponytail and her cowl off her face. She too was watching the interaction with interest.

"The simulation went badly," Bruce said.

"We need a little more than that!" Tim said. "You know Dick isn't gonna talk about it!"

Bruce sighed. "Artemis was killed in the simulation. Miss Martian's sub-conscience could not differ reality from simulation and it took over. She fully believed that Artemis had died and thus they forgot they were in a training sim."

Tim and Barbara paled.

"So he—."

"It was a no win simulation," Bruce said, his voice tired.

"He died, or as close as he could to it," Jason concluded, his eyes darkening as he looked over his adopted father.

Bruce nodded. "He and Kid Flash sacrificed themselves in the simulation to save the planet. That's all he told me before we left." Bruce's eyes strayed up to the direction of the manor.

"Are they going to talk to Black Canary?" Barbara asked. Her eyes widened. "Does she know?"

Bruce paused a moment before slipping off the cowl. "Most of the members who know my identity know Dick isn't the age he's supposed to be. She said she'd look out for anything that might seem like something he shouldn't know as a thirteen year old."

"Actually," Tim's voice shook, "I have to tell you something."

Jason, Barbara and Bruce turned to Tim. Damian was slouching behind him, eyes dark as he frowned. But he seemed more worried than anything else.

"Dick mentioned that sometime he feels older than he is. He mentioned thinking 'not again' when Two Face got him but then said he's never been captured by Two Face before," Tim explained.

"What else?" Bruce asked sharply, his voice tight.

Damian spoke up. "He had dreams of being older and of being Batman."

Bruce blinked and Barbara shook her head. "Why hasn't he mentioned this before?"

"I just thought they were dreams."

They all turned to find Dick in his civilian clothes. He stood there with a confused look on his face.

Barbara sat up and turned away. She didn't approve of Bruce hiding the truth from Dick. But her argument of 'I'm his fiancé!' lost to 'I'm his father!' and she knew it wouldn't have done any good to argue instead of finding a way to fix it all. She touched where the ring on her finger would be softly.

"Hi, Miss Gordon," Dick said, his voice quiet. She noted the blush crossing his face and smiled.

"Hi, Richard. You don't have to call me Miss Gordon," she said, for the nth time.

The boy scrunched up his nose and shook his head; it was his response every time. He turned to Bruce and frowned. "They're dreams. Why is it a big deal?"

"You're right," Jason replied before Bruce could. The man glared but Jason ignored it. "They are just dreams. We didn't realize you wanted to be Batman when you were older."

Dick hesitated, his eyes looking sharply to the left as he lied. "Of course I did. You know, after you guys. I always expected to be Batman. I just thought it was weird. Why does it matter?"

"Expected—?" Tim began.

"I can't be Robin forever!" the boy yelled, standing up on the balls of his feet. He looked stricken for a moment and fell back to his feet. "What else am I gonna do?"

It was surprisingly Jason who strode forward and put a comforting hand on Dick's shoulder. The boy looked up at him with desperate eyes. "You don't have to be Robin forever. I wasn't, and neither was Tim. Or even Damian."

Dick swayed a moment, his eyes hazy. He'd still known who he was when Damian had handed the Robin mantle back over to him. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I knew that."

"Did you?"

The boy squirmed. "No," he whispered.

"Come on, bed."

Jason glared back at Bruce before he guided Dick back up to the manor. They came to Dick's room, which looked like a thirteen year old lived in it. There were old game stations that Dick was dismantling. Books and homework all over his desk. There were several pictures of his parents and of him growing up again. Bruce and Alfred had removed all the pictures with grown-Dick Grayson in them. They were currently sitting in Bruce's room in the manor, the one room Dick wasn't allowed to go in.

They sat there in silence before Dick spoke.

"Jason, I don't want to be Batman anymore," he admitted. "I did. And the hero bit, I'm still all in. But that thing that makes him sacrifice everything for the mission… I can't do that. I don't have it."

Jason hesitated. "You won't kid," he said, thinking of the Dick Grayson he'd always known. "You'll never be him. You'll be better." He hugged Dick tightly, because god he wanted his older brother back but this kid was so confused and tired and had an urge to grow up that he couldn't explain. It wasn't fair.

Their lives weren't fair.

* * *

Robin had been hurting ever since the strange spell had taken all the adults away. He felt pulled, like he was being stretched in two different directions, and the only thing that was keeping him where he was was the fact that he still hadn't been able to get in contact with the cave.

"We need to leave soon, Robin," Aqualad instructed. "What is so important?"

Robin could feel the eyes of the team on him. "I need to contact Nightwing. He can help us. These are five League worthy villains."

"You don't think we can take them?" Superboy snarled, his hands curling into fists.

"I'm not an idiot!" Robin snapped in return. "And I'm worried." He turned back to the computer and his comm. One of the Zetatube's began to power up and before they all knew it, they were washed in blue light.

_"_ _Nightwing B-010."_

Robin turned around just as Nightwing materialized out of the portal. The team was immediately on the defensive.

"No!" Robin insisted, grinning despite himself. "He's my brother! He's Nightwing!" He ran forward to hug the older teen. Nightwing was barely sixteen, his birthday several months away, but he had already hit a growth spurt. He didn't tower over Robin, not like Batman and Red Hood did, but the younger boy still felt dwarfed by the teen.

"So this is the team?" Nightwing asked, raising one eyebrow "Tt."

"You got a problem?" Artemis asked, folding her arms. "I don't see you working with the League." With being a strong word. More like 'for'.

"I work with Batman," Nightwing answered honestly. "That's all that matters."

"Well whomever you are with, Robin trusts you. That is all I need," Aqualad said. He held his hand out. Nightwing looked down at it for a moment before he shook it. Wally nodded, his eyes shining a little as he looked at the hero. He knew all about the Bludhaven vigilante.

"Where are we going again?"

Robin opened his mouth to speak as a splitting headache nearly cracked open his skull. He fell to the floor, grasping at his hair. He cried out in pain and he heard yelling and strong arms pick him off the floor.

"I'm fine!" he insisted, his head clearing.

"You are not!" Nightwing said. "One who is fine does not collapse on the floor."

Robin jerked his hand from Nightwing's. "It doesn't matter how I feel anyway, we have to help them!"

Nightwing looked to Aqualad. "You're his leader," he said.

"You're his brother," Aqualad said seriously. "And I am also his friend. I trust him. I might not agree, but I trust."

Nightwing narrowed his eyes and looked down at Robin. He felt the sudden urge to knock the boy out and stick him in the medical room of the cave. He needed to keep Grayson safe so that when they found the cure, he'd have his father again.

After a moment, he nodded. "Fine, you can come."

Robin threw his hands up. "Yes!"

* * *

Robin skidded across the dirt, falling in to place next to Nightwing. The older teen had pulled out his sword and was holding it at the ready.

"Did you hear Marvel?"

"The stone," Nightwing said. "Yes. But we must get that shield down."

Robin's eyes narrowed. He watched Superboy be flown across the field before turning back to Nightwing. "The cat," he whispered. "That's what keeps Klarion to this place right? The familiar keeps him tethered."

Nightwing gave his brother a side glance, slicing a beam of magic from hitting them. Dick ducked. "Yes, that is correct."

"So we take out the cat!"

Nightwing only needed to point for Robin to follow his gaze and pointed to where Artemis and Kid Flash had apparently had the same idea. But the cat was now the size of a tiger and was trying to rip both of them to shreds. Robin frowned.

"I'm going!"

"Robin, no, wait—!"

But Robin was gone. The boy leapt forward to attack, running alongside the Archer. Before Nightwing knew it, Klarion had thrown a bolt of electricity at Robin and Artemis, launching them away from his shield. They went flying where they landed at Zatanna's feet. Nightwing roared, leaping forward to slice the shield with his sword. Klarion blasted him back, laughing.

"Silly boys and girls!" the Lord of Chaos shrieked. "Little, little children! So helpless!"

Nightwing gritted his teeth. "I'm no child."

"Ah, ah, ah!" Klarion said, wiggling his finger. "The spell says otherwise!"

Nightwing moved to attack again when a blinding gold light overcame the clearing. When he turned, he found the young magician, Zatanna (who reportedly had a crush on Robin, as per Wally) had placed the magic helmet of Fate on her head. She was transformed, her black hair whipping around her.

"Klarion!" Fate screamed. "This ends now!"

Nightwing watched the Witch Boy's features twisted into something less than human. He heard the sound of Marvel screaming shazam and a bolt of lightning strike the ground blared in his vision. He stood up, wiping blood from his mouth. Fate and Klarion blasted each other with bolts of gold and red. But the Lord of Chaos was reduced to a sphere. Fate pulled back and moved forward, the attacks becoming more and more dangerous and electric.

Nightwing launched himself forward and slid across the ground to where Robin and Artemis were. Artemis was holding Robin in her lap, where the boy was screaming and holding his head.

"Robin!"

"You're not all here, Nabu!" Klarion screeched.

Nightwing turned for only a moment to see the Helmet flicker off of Zatanna. He turned back to Robin. "Give him to me. Robin, listen to me!"

The boy seemed to quiet down, but tears streamed down his face and he held on to Nightwing's uniform, gripping the slim material with his hands. Artemis looked on, worried, and Nightwing could see the fear in her face. "He'll be alright," he promised, but his voice shook. He didn't know what was wrong with Robin and until Batman and the adults returned, they wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Damn, why hadn't he insisted on more medical knowledge when Alfred offered to teach him?

He saw Fate steel themselves against an attack, throwing down a final electric gold blast. Klarion was thrown back into the dirt and the shield dematerialized. Fate rushed forward and grabbed the stone, holding it in their hand.

"No!" Klarion shrieked. But it was done.

Fate said the final words of the spell. The world was blinded by light and suddenly the League was there.

Nightwing held on to Robin tighter. Artemis gripped the boys hand. M'gann came up behind them and stood there, her brown eyes worried as she looked down at the boy. He was still crying. He clenched and unclenched his fist and his mutterings differed between Romani and English.

The other magicians were swiftly dealt with and in the confusion, Klarion had disappeared. Batman rushed over and brushed Artemis and M'gann out of the way.

"What happened?"

Nightwing frowned. "We're not sure. He got blasted but this isn't the first time since the original spell that Robin's head has hurt him."

"Fate, release my daughter!"

They turned to see Zatara addressing Doctor Fate.

The gold and blue cloaked magician paused. "No."

"What!" Wally exclaimed.

"She has her own life to live!" Artemis snapped just as Superboy growled.

Zatara looked destressed. "Please. She is young."

"Fate requires a host. She is acceptable," Doctor Fate decreed, floating down ever so slightly.

"Kent Nelson would never agree—," Wally began. But Fate held up their hand.

"Kent Nelson did object. Adamantly so. Thus, I have released him to the afterlife," Fate replied.

Wally felt his knees shake. His eyes widened. "What? No, you can't…"

"Take me, instead," Zatara interrupted. "I'm older. Wiser. I have more experience in magic than my daughter. Let me give my life for hers."

Fate's eyes narrowed. They landed on the ground and stared up at Zatara. "How do I know you will place the helmet on your head after I remove it?"

Zatara sighed. "You have my word. Please."

Fate nodded. "It is a deal, then."

Slowly, the helmet was removed. Zatanna stood there, eyes closed as the tears threatened to leak out of her eyes. Her father slowly walked forward and wrapped his arms around her, holding her there for a moment before whispering he loved her in her ear. The girl's tears began to leak.

"I'm sorry dad. I love you too," she whispered. Zatara nodded and kissed her forward, holding on to her shoulder for one last moment before he took the helmet and put it on. In a moment, Zatara was gone and Doctor Fate had returned.

They turned to where Batman, Nightwing and Robin were. Zatanna stood behind the man that had been her father, her eyes widening when she saw Robin. She couldn't lose him too. The team gathered around, along with the other leaguers.

"I can return him to as he once was," Fate said.

Nightwing and Batman looked at each other, eyes wide. The team looked at each other strangely.

"What are you talking about?" Artemis asked slowly.

"Quiet, girl," Nightwing snapped, despite the fact that they were the same age. "You can return him? Do not use tricks on us, magician."

"Nightwing," Batman said. His son turned to look back at him before nodding, returning to the groaning Robin again. Batman looked at Fate. "You've stolen a father from his child. And now you are offering to return one."

"His soul and his body were split between the worlds. If I do not fix him, he will die," Fate said, ignoring Batman's comment. "The effect of the return is too much for the boy to handle."

A pause. "Do it."

Fate lifted their hands, chanting a spell. Batman and Nightwing moved away as gold light enveloped Robin. After a minute, it faded. Robin was still there.

"He will return to you soon," Fate decreed before they turned and took the other magicians and disappeared.

Batman picked Robin up. The boy groaned.

"We'll go back to the mountain. We'll explain there."

* * *

Batman laid Robin down in the infirmary. The team was milling around waiting for an explanation for the exchange and Nightwing was standing several feet away with his arms folded and a worried frown on his face. The boy had groaned and cried the entire way back to the mountain and there was nothing they could do until they got there.

Black Canary was waiting for them, along with Agent A.

"Is he asleep now?"

"I think so," Batman replied. He turned to Alfred.

"What happened last time?"

Last time being over three years ago. Alfred hesitated. "Master Robin literally seemed to shrink down. It seemed incredibly painful, but he woke up fine. You saw him," Alfred said. "I'm afraid growing muscle and height that fast will be painful."

Batman nodded. "Probably. Can we put him under for the time being?"

"Drug him?" Nightwing said, shocked.

Black Canary pursed her lips. "I might be best. He won't feel the pain and we don't run the risk in assuming he'll be out for all of it. Agent A and I will take care of that. You two owe the team an explanation," she said, her eyes settling on Batman. She'd never met Nightwing before, but she knew who he was and how he was a part of this.

"You're right," Batman sighed. "We should tell them."

"Father!" Nightwing hissed.

"Let's go, Nightwing," Batman said, ignoring his son. "Robin… Dick needs to rest."

They left the infirmary and walked down the halls silently next to one another.

"They don't need to know," Nightwing said.

"They're his friends. His teammates. They deserve to know why he won't just return one day," Batman explain, giving his son a side-eyed glance.

Nightwing huffed.

They arrived in the cave's living room where the team were standing. The only one who looked mildly disinterested was Superboy but he was staring at the static on the TV. It wasn't until Nightwing cleared his throat that the clone looked up and shut the TV off.

Zatanna and M'gann were standing close to each other, the alien's arm around the human girl. Zatanna's face was red but she wiped the tears off her face and stood up when Batman and Nightwing walked in.

"What's going on? Robin's my best friend, I deserve to know what's happening!" Wally insisted, his green eyes pleading as he zipped forward to stand in front of Batman.

Nightwing held his tongue, only moving to look at Batman.

"I lied to you," Batman said honestly. "Robin is not thirteen years old."

That seemed to shock the team enough. Artemis and Wally jerked back, their eyes betraying their confusion. Aqualad frowned and he rocked back and forth on his feet a moment before he caught and steadied himself. Only Superboy seemed unaffected, given that he was barely a year old. M'gann and Zatanna looked at each other.

"We don't care if he's younger—," the magician started, though he voice cracked a little.

"Older," Batman corrected. "Three years ago, Robin, as the original Nightwing, was de-aged somehow into a ten year old. At first, he remembered who he was. But it caught up and eventually he forgot. We had to tell him several not quite truths. We've been searching for a way to return him back to his rightful age ever since." The room was silent. It was probably the most they'd ever heard Batman speak and the fact that Robin wasn't actually a child, but supposedly much older.

Artemis looked up. "He didn't know?"

"No," Batman said. "He forgot almost all of us aside from the important details." He was my ward. I was his father. Batman brushed the thought away.

"How old was he?"

"Twenty-two," Nightwing said. "He would be twenty-five now."

Zatanna covered her mouth. "Oh my god," she whispered.

Artemis fell back down to the couch, holding her shoulders, and Wally had a deep look of betrayal in his eyes. Either for them or for his friend, Nightwing couldn't be sure. Aqualad looked deeply troubled and he was looking away with a pained expression on his face.

"He had to relive childhood," the Atlantean said. "He had to grow up again."

"As if Grayson could ever actually grow up," Nightwing muttered. Batman shot him a dark look before he turned to Aqualad.

"Yes, he did. He lost a lot of things."

"When will he be back to normal?" Wally asked, his voice quiet.

"Two or three days at most," Batman said. "We'll keep you updated." With that, the two were gone.

Wally fell down on the couch next to Artemis. "Oh my god," he said.

"Twenty-two," Artemis replied.

"He's older than me! That is so not right!" Wally exclaimed, trying to keep his outlook upbeat.

Zatanna leaned into M'gann. "I really liked him," she whispered. "A lot. I really liked Robin a lot. And he wasn't even himself."

The team looked at each other, each in varying levels of disbelief. Would the Robin they knew be the same almost ten years older? Would be remember them? Did he still mess up the English language and did he climb on things all the time?

"I'm sorry, Z," M'gann said softly. "It's awful."

The magician balled her fists, leaping up from the chair. "It is! I finally have someone who I liked and who I think liked me and then he has to go and be ten years older than me! It's not fair!" Tears streamed down her face and they heard glass shattering in the kitchen. The girls eyes widened and she wiped the tears from her face. "Sorry," she whispered. "My father was taken from me. And now Robin is leaving."

"We have to remember that we cannot feel angry at Robin. He is more of a victim in this than us. His life was robbed. Three years of it was stolen. He had no memory of who he once was," Aqualad said. "That said. I am sad for our friend. Robin was like a younger brother to me."

"He was even more to me," a voice said. The team turned to see Nightwing standing there.

"What… do you mean?" Superboy asked, his voice cool.

"When Robin was Nightwing, the original, he was like a father me. At first, yes, an older brother but then a father. He was… he was Batman and I was his Robin," Nightwing explained.

"No way, Rob was Batman?" Wally asked, slight awe in his voice.

"Only for a year," Nightwing said quickly. "There were complications with the Batman you know now. But he gave me a chance. He became for more like a father than… it's been three years," Nightwing's voice cracked. He squared his shoulders and jutted his jaw out. "You are losing your brother, but I had lost my father."

"Nightwing."

Damian whirled around to face his biological father. The man's face was unreadable, but Nightwing knew that he had heard all of what he had just said.

"We're headed home. We'll come back in the morning," Batman declared. He turned back to face the team. "Get rest. You did well today."

They walked to the Zetatube's in silence, the teams eyes on them even after they disappeared.

They materialized back in the cave. Nightwing turned to Bruce.

"Father—."

"Don't worry about it, Damian," Batman said.

Nightwing watched him disappear into the shadows.

* * *

Nightwing returned in civvies and glasses over his face. Batman was still at the cave but Damian had snuck down in the early morning and arrived in the cave to sit by Dick's side when he woke up. It'd been a week.

Robin was gone. In his place, at around yesterday at 2:17 pm, was Dick Grayson. They measured that, biologically, Dick was twenty-five. Exactly where he should be. The team hadn't been permitted to see him yet and technically neither had Damian, but he'd snuck in anyway. He'd been sneaking updates to Barbara who still wasn't permitted to come to the cave. Damian knew she was pretty close to it anyway, just like he'd been. But she was older and had a little more patience.

Damian slipped into the infirmary where Dick was sleeping. The wounds he'd contracted before he'd been de-aged had appeared when Dick's body returned to what it once was. It'd been a surprise to see various cuts and bruises and a stab wound where there hadn't been the day before, but Alfred had stitched Dick up just fine. And now the man was just sleeping. Damian reached forward to hold Dick's hand.

"Please wake up, Grayson," he whispered. "I miss you."

Grayson only breathed.

"Todd told me to tell you that you needed to 'fucking wake up soon, Dick' or else he'd kill you," Damian said. "I threw a butter knife at him. It is now lodged in the wall where Todd's head had been. Drake framed it." He frowned, feeling unsettled. He didn't know what about Grayson made him feel like a child, but he hadn't felt this way since… probably ever, really. Or maybe the first time they'd gotten ice cream.

That had been fun, despite what he told Dick.

"Finally taller than you now, Lil 'D," a voice whispered.

Damian sat up. "Grayson!"

The man winced. He heaved himself up so he was sitting somewhat upright before he squeezed Damian's hand. "Yeah, try not to yell. I feel hungover," Dick said. He grinned at Damian. "You're older, Damian."

Damian paused, her face dropping at Dick's tone of voice. "Grayson, I should—."

"Wait, before you call the Big Man," Dick said. Damian's lips twitched at the nickname. He hadn't heard his biological father called 'Big Man' in three years. It had always annoyed him, but Damian found himself glad to hear the name again. "I'm so sorry, D."

Damian cocked his head to the side. "For what?"

"Three years, Damian. I've been… I've missed three years of your life. You're fifteen. You… you're grown now," Dick said, his voice strained. His eyes looked desperate, as if he'd forget everything again.

"Grayson," Damian said seriously. "You were there. Maybe not… how you wanted to be, but you were there. I learned much from you. Even that way. I was angry. I'd felt as if you left me." He watched Dick's fall. "But you hadn't! Not of your own volition and…" Damian paused. "I love you, father." The words tumbled from his mouth before Damian could think twice about it.

They stared at each other for a moment. Just as Dick opened his mouth, the door swing open.

Batman stood there, cowl off. "Dick…"

"Bruce," Dick whispered. He glanced at Damian for a short moment before he smiled. "I remember!"

"You're you again," Bruce said, walking forward to squeeze his sons shoulder. Dick immediately pulled Bruce into a hug. The man stiffened before he wrapped his arms around Dick's torso.

Dick pulled away sooner than expected. "Still sore. Ow." He rolled his shoulder a little. "Oh, fuck," he whispered softly.

Bruce only raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"How do you feel?"

Dick shrugged, not the least bit embarrassed by his language. "Sore and everything aches. But fine, aside from the cuts and stuff. Where are Tim and Jason?" His eyes widened and he shot up. "Barbara!"

Bruce shoved Dick down in to the bed.

Damian stood up, looking between the two.

"Once you're feeling a little better, you can have visitors. Damian wasn't supposed to be here," Bruce explained.

"I'm glad he was," Dick said, "It's good to wake up and see someone you know. Especially in a med bay."

Bruce nodded, looking over the charts. "Damain, do you mind giving us a moment?"

"Not at all…" a pause, "Father."

Damian left and the door swung close. Dick sat up.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth?" His voice was dark, and the humor disappeared from his eyes.

"You were ten."

"Twelve? Thirteen? I wasn't a stupid kid, Bruce. I would've understood. I knew you all talked about me, I ignored it because I thought it was because of the memory loss. Which, ugh, admittedly is a good cover up," Dick said. His voice was tight and his eyes were narrowed.

"I'm doing a blood test."

"Answer me."

Bruce sighed. "Would you have understood? Would you, at twelve or thirteen, understood that you were actually supposed to be 25? That you were a cop and lived in Bludhaven? That you were dating 'Miss Gordon'? If we had told you that you have almost twelve years of memories just gone, you'd have felt guilty. You would have blamed yourself somehow."

Dick blushed at the name he'd called Barbara, but he still looked serious. "Probably would have. Where did you put all the pictures anyway?"

"My room."

Dick laughed then, his shoulders relaxing. "Makes sense." He leaned back into the pillow, wincing as Bruce drew the blood. "I might not have, I guess.'

"Barbara was against it the entire time."

"You won the argument then," Dick mused, a smile on his face at the thought of Barbara going up against Bruce.

Bruce's lips twitched. "Father trumped fiancé."

Dick laughed louder.

* * *

He was still in the med bay when the door slid open and a figure slipped in. Dick's wound were healing nicely, but he was confined to the bed for the time being. He was getting restless.

"Dick, you up?"

Dick blinked out of the haze of drugs. "Jay?"

He saw a flash of teeth in the darkness and then the light turned on. Jason was older now too, Dick could see it. He wore his leather jacket and jeans and the Red Hood helmet was tucked under his arm.

Jason sat down next to Dick's bed and the older man slowly turned his body to face his younger brother.

Jason looked serious, but not in the serious 'I'm-going-to-kill-you-way', it was the 'we-have-something-heavy-to-talk-about serious. Jason rubbed his eyes and leaned back into the chair. "God, I missed you Dick."

Dick blinked. This didn't happen often. "Oh. I'd say I missed you too but…"

Jason shook his head, scowling. "Work with me here, asshole. I'm trying to… I'm trying to say that I missed, uh, having you as my older brother."

Dick's eyes softened. "I understand Jason. I appreciate it."

"I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like I hated you. I didn't. Well, I don't. I mean," Jason huffed, "I mean that I don't hate you now. And I've said, in the past, some really shitty stuff to you. I guess I always figured that you'd, you know, get over it because you always seemed so sure of yourself that words couldn't hurt you."

Dick looked away, blinking. "I guess I do give off that vibe."

"When the kid… when you didn't recognize me when I came to the cave, our second first meeting, it terrified me," Jason admitted, his voice quiet. "I didn't realize how much you did for me until you were gone. And you weren't dead, but suddenly I was no one to you. And you're my brother, my big brother. I didn't want that."

"Thanks, Jason," Dick said, smiling. "That does mean a lot. You'll always be my younger brother. I love you a lot. You actually remind me a lot of John."

Jason frowned. "Your dad?"

"Cousin," Dick corrected. "When I was a kid. You were like my older brother in the same way he was one to me."

Jason hesitated. "I didn't realize you'd thought of him that way." Jason never thought much about it, but Dick really didn't talk about the circus that much. For someone that could talk for 24 hours straight, he sure had a lot to talk about that didn't directly involve his personal life.

Dick nodded. "He was angry as a kid. I think he was bitter toward my Aunt and Uncle about being in the circus. My parents were talking about eventually pulling out and settling down and having another kid. I think John was jealous for a bit, but he loved me a lot. He was… god, I mean, I miss him. And now I'm almost older than he was when he died. But even though he was jealous of our family, of what we had, he still cared for me." Dick turned to look at Jason, who had a stricken look on his face. "Even though you… hated me and were jealous, you didn't have to care for me as a kid. You could've gotten rid of me, dumped me. I was a kid. I wasn't competition for Bruce's attention like I had been."

"I wouldn't have done that," Jason said. "Honest, Dick. It's not like that anymore."

"Really?"

Jason looked at Dick's face. The older man always had a way to make one feel something about themselves. Jason didn't know what it was. Dick could read people so well and Jason could read clear as day the honesty Dick was letting him see.

"I wouldn't have done that," Jason said, his voice firm.

Dick stared at him for a long moment, his eyes searching. Jason felt immense guilt. He wondered if Dick had ever felt this as a kid toward Jason. They knew now his memories and feelings toward certain things had echoed back in his younger self.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"When I discovered you guys talking about the dreams I'd been having. You were talking about double meanings when you took me back up to bed. You helped me through what I was struggling through," Dick said.

Jason paused a moment. "Yeah," he confirmed. "You'll always be better than Bruce. I've always tried to be like him. I should've focused on you."

Dick's lips twitched. "You're not the only one who thinks that, I think."

Jason waited for Dick to explain, but the man was blinking heavily. Shit. Right. The drugs. Jason squeezed Dick's hand.

"Go to bed, dork," Jason said to his brother.

Dick let out a small laugh before his eyes closed and he was asleep.

Jason turned off the light and only paused briefly in the door. He knew how Dick felt. Jason had died, and Dick had nearly missed his chance to be the older brother he could to Jason. He had been for a while and then afterward, but Jason hadn't wanted Dick to. He was bitter. Why had he only tried to be family after Jason died? He should've tried harder before.

But now he understood. And for three years he had to look into the face of his older brother and see a boy, a man, who didn't recognize him. Jason shivered. He slipped out the door and out to the cave.

* * *

Dick was finally able to return to the cave, but he knew he needed to talk to the team first. It was odd. He had the memories he'd had over the past three years. He knew the thoughts and feeling and emotions. He was still himself, still the man he was, just a little different. It hadn't clicked yet, he mused. He pulled on the civvies Bruce had dropped off. Apparently Dick still had some growing in him at twenty-two, most of his old clothes didn't fit. He wanted to laugh.

Jason and Tim were apparently waiting for him Batman and the Team, and Damian. He recalled Jason's talk with him from several days ago and smiled. It would work out. But he wasn't excited about confronting Wally or Zatanna. Wally because they'd been best friends, and Zatanna because he'd had somewhat of a crush on her and now he just felt gross. Plus, he was engaged. Not that he'd known that at the time, but still.

He let out a breath and left the infirmary and walked down the hall. The living room was a lot fuller than it had been in years, probably. Everyone turned to look at him. He saw the team's eyes widened at the sight. He opened his arms up wide, fell into a roll and landed perfectly on his feet. He bowed.

"Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night," he exclaimed.

Jason turned to Batman. "Turn him back."

Dick laughed. "No can do, I'm here to stay."

Jason couldn't help himself. He grinned and punched Dick in the arm. He winked. Clearly their late-night talk wasn't known by the others. The older man frowned. "Wow, okay."

"Robin?"

Dick turned to look at the team and his eyes softened. "Hey, team."

It was M'gann who'd spoken. She was holding her hands in front of her, tears in her eyes. There was a pause and then she burst forward and engulfed him in a hug. He smiled and patted her head, looking down.

"Talk about little brother huh?"

M'gann laughed.

"You're really Robin?" Artemis asked, walking up behind M'gann. The team followed close behind, all wary.

"I was the first Robin, back in… like… 2006? I think. I was eight. But yes, I'm also the Robin you knew," Dick replied honestly.

Aqualad rigidly stuck out his hand. "A pleasure to meet you."

Nightwing looked down at his hand, a pained look in his eyes. "You too, Aqualad. But you know me."

"I knew a version of you," the Atlantean said. "But I'd like to know this version too."

Nightwing smiled a little. "Well, I'd like that too. Call me Nightwing."

He heard a 'Tt' behind him and grinned.

"I'm sorry this happened," he said honestly, turning back to the team.

"Why couldn't you stay? Why couldn't you stay a kid?" Zatanna asked, the girls eyes red.

Nightwing sighed, his eyes betraying the sorrow he felt. His shoulder dropped. "Because I know if I lived… and grown up to the age I should've been and found out the truth, I would've been devastated," he explained. The girl's eyes glistened. "Listen, Zatanna. I'm sorry this happened. Really." He turned to all of them. "To all of you, actually. I know you've lost someone that's important to you but he… I haven't been that kid in a long time."

"You're not my best friend, you're not him," Wally snapped, crossing his arms.

"Kid!" Barry exclaimed. Black Canary let out a similar cry.

"Hey, it's fine. I understand. Hopefully we can still be friends and work together in the future when you want it," Nightwing said, a smile on his face. "I'll be willing. I'll be in Bludhaven."

Wally's eyes bugged. "Wait… you're that Nightwing!?"

Wing stood up straight. "Yeah, I was. Then I got de-aged. I became Robin again and, eh, he," Dick jerked his finger back at Damian, "he took over the Nightwing mantle."

"Whoa," Wally breathed, most of the animosity towards the man in front of him forgotten. "That's so cool."

_"_ _Recognize: Batgirl B-014."_

Nightwing jerked up and turned to the Zetatube. Batgirl materialized out of nowhere, already moving. She didn't even stopped to point her finger at Batman.

"I deserved to know." And then she stalked forward and threw her arms around Nightwing.

"You're here," she breathed. He quickly engulfed her. For a moment, they stood there while they embraced each other and everyone looked on.

"Who are you?" Artemis asked, glancing between the two.

Batgirl held up her hand, where a small diamond ring sat. She was in her civvies, glasses over her face. She still had her face into his neck, hugging him tightly. "Fiancé!"

"Wait, you proposed! Dude, when?" Tim exclaimed, his eyes wide. He turned to Barbara. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Bruce had a small smile on his face.

"Three years ago," Dick answered, pulling away from Babs. "I had already gotten de-aged. And I didn't really propose it was just… I wanted her to have it, in case I wouldn't ever get to tell her." They understood the implications. In case he never returned back to normal and aged from ten on up. In case they could never get married.

"You really did have a life?" Wally asked. "You're…"

"I'm me, Wally," Nightwing answered truthfully. "There's just some things we don't know about each other yet. We can still be friends, if you want."

"He has a thing for red-heads!" Jason exclaimed.

They watched Nightwing blush. "Not true!"

"Mm, Babs, Josie, the one girl Leoni, Anna, Eva, Anita, Caroline—."

"Okay!" Nightwing said, clearly embarrassed. "Enough!" He could feel the teams stares on him. He turned back to Batman.

"Let's go home, please?"

Damian materialized from Batman's side to Nightwing's, standing close to the man. He wasn't letting Nightwing go anywhere without him. Nightwing rubbed the boys head, even though Damian was almost as tall as him.

"Ready, kid?"

"I hardly doubt you can call me kid, now," Damian replied, but there was a small smile on his face.

Nightwing laughed. Jason and Tim bade the team farewell, well Tim did, Jason grunted in their direction, and disappeared through the tubes. Batman followed behind them closely. After that it was just Nightwing, Damian in civvies, and Batgirl.

Nightwing turned to the team. "I'll see you guys around," he said awkwardly. "I'll… come around again, when you're used to the idea."

The Team glanced at each other, clearly having a mental conversation. Aqualad looked at Nightwing, holding out his hand again. Nightwing grasped it.

"We'd like that," Aqualad said.

The man grinned. "Glad to hear it."

He turned to Black Canary and Flash. "Thank you for… putting up with me. I wasn't an easy kid."

Canary laughed. "Easy enough. I liked you as a kid, you were cute."

Nightwing grinned with her. "Alright," he said, clapping his hands together. "I have three years to catch up on. Who wants ice cream?"

Damian groaned and Batgirl smirked.

"You never change," Barbara laughed.

They disappeared into the Zetatube's.

* * *

The coming weeks were hard for the team. Zatanna was angry, but she'd mostly wheedled out of it after several sessions with Black Canary, who helped the girl deal with her losses. Wally felt abandoned by his friend, but Dick kept up with texting and invited him over to his new apartment. They played video games, and after a while, Wally felt like he'd never lost his friend. And, in reality, he'd gained a mentor.

Artemis didn't find that she minded Nightwing much, and neither did Superboy or M'gann. He came to the mountain several times. They lost a younger brother but gained an older one. Nightwing would bring food and games, insisting they all hang out and get team-bonding time.

But he was so different. And the tension still existed sometimes. Nightwing didn't crack jokes as much. He was a little darker, a little more serious when it came to missions. They'd gone on some with Nightwing and Robin. But he still was no Batman, despite having actually been Batman, because he'd smile. In fact, despite the almost darker personality, Nightwing was more open than Robin. They found that Nightwing chattered almost constantly.

When Superboy sat down and asked him why that was, Nightwing frowned. "I don't know. I grew up, I grew into myself. I wasn't trying to be anyone else. Some things are always going to affect you, true. But I'm me."

The clone still wasn't sure what that meant. He was going to ask Canary.

The second Nightwing had returned to being Robin. Watching those two fight was incredible. Canary had brought them in to show the team and fight sequence. Nightwing was more, if possible, acrobatic than he'd been when he was Robin. But the moves weren't frivolous or misplaced. They were calculated, planned, and certain. He was a hero.

They'd get used to it, eventually. It would take time. But they would.

* * *

"What did you mean by, 'I love you, Father'?" Dick asked. He and Damian were sitting in his and Bab's new apartment, in Gotham. Barbara was gone at work and he had invited Damian over to hang out and watch movies. They had done that every Wednesday before Dick had been de-aged and Damian insisted the tradition continue even now.

The fifteen year old looked over at Dick before scowling. "I was emotional."

Dick frowned. "D, I'm only ten years older than you—."

"And still more of a father than Bruce Wayne has ever tried to be to me," Damian said quietly.

Dick was quiet, his eyes trained on Damian's face. It was clear he wanted Damian to continue. The teen sighed and gritted his teeth. "You gave me a chance to be Robin. It was you, no one else. Not Batman without your permission, and not Todd or Drake. It was you. You opened up to me and you loved me, like a brother. And that's alright, if you only see me as your brother. But you became… more to me than a brother, Grayson. When you asked why I called you by your last name instead of Dick or Richard back when… when you were younger, I said I was reminding you of your place. Originally it was, that was the truth, but then… it's not right for a son to call his parents, his father, by their first name."

It was quiet. Damian looked up to see Dick staring at him. The man's face was emotionless, but Grayson's blue eyes betrayed the feeling. Damian looked away sharply.

"I'm sorry if I've—."

"I saw you as my son in a lot of ways, Damian."

Damian froze.

Dick sighed. "I know it was… I know it was hard these past few years having me be a child. And then I looked to you as a son, but when I woke up and I saw you sitting there I know how my parents felt. How Bruce feels. I'm only ten years older than you and that's… obviously hardly the age difference to have a kid. And I didn't want to say anything so you wouldn't feel as if I were replacing Bruce," Dick explained. The man was quiet. The movie was paused and in the distance, sirens rang. They ignored it.

Damian smiled. "I think Bruce already knows how I see you."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "Bruce?"

Damian shrugged.

"Okay, kid, your death wish. I know he liked it when you called him father."

Damian repeated the motion.

Dick rested a hand on Damian's shoulder.

"You'll always be my Robin, Damian."

Damian looked into the man who-was-not-his-father-but-actually-was's eyes. "Thanks, dad."

Dick let out a sharp laugh. "I don't know if I'll get used to that. Think you'll call Babs mom?"

Damian scowled and rolled his eyes. "Not a fat chance, Grayson."

"There he is!"

"Turn on the movie!"

* * *

_Fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahahaha fuck. This was so hard to write wtf. I'm sorry for massive OOC-ness bc I haven't watched the show in like… three years. This is a combination of Pre-New 52 comics, the Batman shows, and Young Justice. But it's mostly in the YJ world so I just stuck it there. Also I love Dick and Damian with a father/son bond. So, I'm taking prompts. Hit me up. I don't want to work on my Merlin/Artemis Fowl crossover so give me something else to do. Also, I'm sorry for the teams reactions? Like that mini-bit was awful. I probably will continue this as One-shots of over the years, but this was just setting up the story really and messing around with the idea without committing to a full multi-chapter fic. I love De-aged stories. And Nightwing. So. There you go.
> 
> Be a slut for the good things, my dudes.
> 
> R&R. Peace.


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